Homecoming
by Sarah Slutz
Summary: Vegita left abruptly after the Cell Games…He is now back home. Is he back for good? What really happened between them during the infamous three years?


Homecoming

by: Sarah Slutz

Pairings: Vegita/Bulma

Rating: Mature for sexual content, light swearing and fabulousness :P.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball. If I did, this fic would be famous and I would be rich as hell.

Description: Vegita left abruptly after the Cell Games…He is now back home. Is he back for good? What _really_ happened between them during the infamous three years?

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"_Yes, yes, yes," he gasped in her ear as he at long last joined their bodies slowly, tortuously. Bulma could only moan loudly as he started moving into her and she clung onto his back for dear life, her nails scrambling at his back for purchase, but not sinking in the tough but surprisingly soft skin. Her legs wound around his waist, and she trembled uncontrollably with all the pent up desire she'd stored for many lonely, frustrating months._

_He then looked deeply into her dazed eyes for a second before speeding up his erotic movements, going at a pace she could barely follow. His hands roamed all over, searing her skin as they grabbed, pulled, and slapped like an animal in heat._

"_Ahhhhh!" she screamed with mingled pleasure and agony. Vegita was being too rough, but she didn't care. Bulma knew for a fact she would be black and blue all over tomorrow, but this was so worth it...so incredibly--_

_All conscious thought fled her mind as her whole frame bucked and shuddered uncontrollably beneath his savage ministrations and it all exploded within her bones, her heart, her brain. Her shriek heralded her completion. He wasn't done, though, and her orgasm seemed to make him snap. He lost control and it hurt. The pain was excruciating. Her body couldn't take the stimulus and damage any longer, and she passed out. _

_By the time she woke up, she was alone and on her tongue was the aftertaste of a senzu bean. She'd had one once when she'd been much younger. She'd foolishly gotten into harm's way, as usual. Its taste, though, was unique and unmistakable...Vegita knew where her emergency senzus were located. After all, he'd refused to take them several times_:_ affirming healing the "normal" way was what a warrior should do. He'd obviously fed her one, but now he was gone… gone…_

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Bulma hissed in anger when she came back to reality and noticed her pancakes had burned to a crisp while she'd been daydreaming. Yet again. About their one solitary sexual experience. Unfortunately it ended in disaster, especially since he ran away from her as far and fast as he could. Surely he could have been able to control himself much better the next time…After all, she had seduced him, shocked him into taking her. Despite the pain towards the end, it had been the most passionate, scorching, mind-numbing sex she'd ever experienced. The fact that it wasn't going to happen again pissed her off to no end.

How many times can a woman recount one single encounter? Apparently, hundreds; it lived in her dreams every night. However, it was useless. Vegita had either been horrified he'd hurt her or unable to deal with the fact they'd had sex in the first place after almost a year of constant sexual tension. Yes, he'd hurt her during the act, but she knew it had been accidental. She'd been aware of the possible consequences of going to bed with such a powerful, dangerous male.

When she woke up after what happened, he had already taken the Capsule Corps's single spaceship and fled to space, not returning until a couple of days before the Cyborgs were due to appear. Bulma could not deny she had felt deeply hurt and betrayed.

When she next faced her one-time lover, Vegita took one look at their ten-month-old baby she'd been holding in her arms. Disbelief, shock, and horror were among the many emotions that had flashed through his fathomless eyes in that split second. Then he'd turned around and acted as if Trunks didn't even exist. There were more important issues to worry about at the moment than a child conceived from one night of unplanned passion. Like the imminent possible destruction of the world and his rivalry against "Kakarot".

They had two short conversations as they prepared for the cyborgs, and she only saw him a handful of times from a distance. The first conversation took place as she handed him his training clothes at the holy Lookout. The second one came as a surprise, for he actually asked her a straight question regarding the whereabouts of Dr Gero's lab. Both conversations took place with other people present. They'd had no privacy, and she doubted he wanted it in any case. Yamcha had been the one to inform her of most of the events which transpired during that period.

It didn't come as a surprise to her that he didn't lift a finger when Number Nineteen nearly killed her and Trunks. Bulma had known full well she was on her own when she'd impulsively decided to go to the battle site. Her curiosity wanted to be assuaged. It had been foolish and stupid. Vegita did not tolerate foolishness. If grown-up Trunks had not rescued them, he'd most likely have watched them die impassively.

She still hadn't forgiven him for that either, but that fact did not stop her from loving him, for wishing she could reach his hardened heart. She knew his darkness intimately, and it was an aspect of him that both attracted her and repelled her in equal measures.

The Cyborgs and Cell were defeated but sadly, her best friend, her Son-kun sacrificed himself and Earth was saved yet again. Vegita was present when the warriors and her family said goodbye to Future Trunks as he left to return to his uncertain future. She knew he would prevail against any evil that still lingered in his time line. She couldn't feel prouder. Vegita must have felt similarly. He'd gone as far as extending two fingers in farewell. Vegita had grown to care for Trunks in his own way. She knew this because when Trunks died during their battle with Cell, Vegita went into a frenzy, firing ki attacks wildly, possessed by rage. He lost his composure, almost jeopardizing the battle. Bulma was glad her son from the future had gotten to know his father and that Vegita showed some concern for him.

Yet, what could she and baby Trunks expect in _her_ dimension? Would they get a similar chance to get to know Vegita? He kept himself detached, showing mere glimpses of himself those few times he lowered his guard. However, those flashes had intrigued Bulma like nothing else could. Her natural inquisitiveness had emerged and her fondest wish became deciphering the mystery that was Vegeta. As her relationship with Yamcha faded, her fascination with the Saiya-jin no Ouji grew stronger and more irresistible.

She could still remember the longest conversation they'd ever engaged in. Her father and she'd been in the kitchen discussing a book they were reading together on the subject of governmental theories, and he'd walked in. Surprisingly, Vegita stayed longer than necessary to prepare a snack and had laughed outright at one of their comments. Rather, it had sounded more like an evil, rough chuckle.

"You humans are foolish, weak creatures!"

Staunchly defending her planet's customs, she tried to show him the superiority and logic of their ideals. Vegita debated her every single word. Three hours later, they noticed it had grown dark, and Dr. Briefs had parted company with them a while ago. With a sniff, Vegita said, "I've already wasted enough time," and pretty much fled to his precious gravity chamber.

Bulma shook her head and decided she was utterly hopeless. What good did it serve to constantly review the past? Sighing, she threw out the burned pancakes and started again from scratch. She checked the baby monitor she strapped to her hip for any signals, but it seemed Trunks' breathing was still even, and he continued to sleep peacefully.

A whole month had transpired since her son from the future left and Vegita had departed as well to parts unknown. He took the ship and some supplies, leaving everything else intact in the capsule house constructed next to the GR. He was gone. Gone, gone, gone. There was no use in wishing for it to be otherwise. They would be fine without him. Better, even. She would raise Trunks to be a fine young man, even without a father. Her future version did it, and did it well; so could she. After all, there was Gohan to help out with his training when that time came. Chichi was a great help, surprisingly, not to mention her wonderful parents.

One day she would find someone else to love and give Trunks the father he deserved, but she didn't even want to contemplate that possibility yet. She wasn't ready. More importantly, her heart was not ready.

In truth, she should encapsulate the GR and tuck it away until Trunks was old enough to use it. She knew none of her warrior friends were interested in using any of her equipment for his training. She should also get rid of Vegita's capsule house...it was painful to look at it every time she glanced outside her balcony. Nevertheless, she hadn't been able to bring herself to even attempt it. Part of her still wished, still hoped he would come back; that she could get to know the enigmatic man who, somehow, she'd grown to care for. Even love.

Suddenly, all of Bulma's senses went on high alert. There was something different in the air, a presence not to be ignored. The small hairs on her arms stood on end, and she spun around in alarm, holding up the spatula she'd been using.

"You scared the shit out of me!" she screamed.

"Planning on striking me with a kitchen utensil?" Vegita asked in that gravelly voice of his, sending shivers down her spine and all the way down to her toes. Why did it have to be so drop dead sexy? She'd never been able to resist his compelling voice.

"I...no, that would be useless, wouldn't it?" she said, falling back on her usual habit of verbally sparring with the irascible prince. Bulma still could not believe he was standing in her kitchen, arms crossed and looking like he hadn't slept much during the month he'd been away. He still looked delicious, though, and the cloud of defeat, which hung over him the last time she'd seen him, was mostly gone.

It was highly doubtful he still planned to "never fight again".

"The code for the gravity machine doesn't work anymore, Woman," he said.

Not moving a muscle, she'd been staring at him for the last few seconds like he was an apparition, ready to dissipate at any given second. She started violently when he broke the brief silence. Barely able to keep her voice from shaking, she said, "Yes, well, it changes automatically three times a week, and since you've been gone..."

"Do not tell me facts I'm already privy to, just give me the new code, Bulma," he interrupted rudely and she frowned at him in annoyance. One of the reasons she set up the GR's door to function that way was to have some type of contact with him, as pathetic as it sounded. It had been the sole reason he approached her, besides the times he broke it; or when he wanted updates on his toys. He had his own house, which her mother kept stocked with all the supplies he could ever need. He wasn't a bad cook, and he also favored instant microwave dinners.

Bulma blushed profusely as she thought of her foolishness, and turned around to attend to her pancakes, wanting to avoid burning them again.

"I have to go to my lab to access the code. I do not have it with me right now," she explained, standing up straight and proud; she did not wish for him to sense her weakness. Bulma continued preparing breakfast. Once in a while she liked doing it on her own, as easy as it would be to summon one of her domestic robots.

"Hurry up then," he demanded, crossing his arms.

"I thought the time you were away would teach you some manners, but I suppose it did not," she groused, still giving him her back.

Abruptly she felt his presence right behind her, his breath caressing her ear and he whispered, "No, I will never learn these human manners, woman. But being away did teach me a few things..."

"Like what?" she squeaked, but managed to keep her voice mostly level as her hands trembled slightly under the sensual assault of his scent, his proximity, the power that emanated from every cell of his gorgeous, hard body.

He pulled away abruptly, as if the contact had burned him. She peeked at him through her peripheral vision and saw him standing stiff and ramrod straight, holding himself away from her emotionally and physically. She faced him directly, her chin jutting out. His expression changed dramatically, and he sent her the most evil smirk she'd ever seen on his face. The weight of his dark eyes was upon her; she was helpless to look away.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he said. His voice was an intimate caress, a promise, a threat. Bulma fairly shivered.

When she didn't reply, Vegita crossed his arms and scowled. "I expect the code in fifteen minutes, Woman," he ordered. Then he exited the kitchen, leaving her trembling and weak in the knees.

All Bulma could think of in this moment was one thing, despite the fact that a dozen of conflicting emotions were battering her brain.

_He was back! _

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I originally planned for this to be the start of a much longer story, however, I decided not to do that so this stands as one shot.


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